


A Vengeful Morass of Blood

by Gunderpants



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Fluff and Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 16:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2394611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gunderpants/pseuds/Gunderpants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Half Blood Prince's diary is given to Ginny Weasley. She doesn't have time for his emo shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Vengeful Morass of Blood

**Author's Note:**

> One of my first fics from 2005, written after a friend directed me to an automatic goth poetry generator. I still dig it.

**October 1996**

When Ginny first saw the diary lying underneath her possessions, the first thought to come into her mind was _you've got to be bloody kidding me_. She'd only dropped her books outside the kitchen so she could pester the house-elves for an apple and a biscuit for a second: whoever the foul perpetrator was, they were certainly a nefarious foe; surreptitious by nature, yet unrefined in execution. Either they'd forgotten about her previous adventures with a troublesome book from four years earlier, or they'd not forgotten, and were exceptionally dim.

She curled up in an armchair, nibbling at a corner of the biscuit and fingering the cover of the book. It certainly looked like an old diary: one that you could pick up for a couple of knuts (and even less if you waited until a little bit after the new year) and use to scribble in for a few months until your interest waned in the art of self-indulgence. There was no name or indication of ownership on the book anywhere, though she did note the abuse of red and black ink, the pentacle on the cover and a scribbly little 'HBP' down the bottom of the front cover, which she dismissed as being some pitiful old wizarding band. (The Hell-Bloodied Pissants, she'd assumed: hadn't Sirius and Lupin mentioned such a band from their own youth?) She turned to a page at the back of the diary, noting the date printed at the top: September 15, 1976. The former owner of the diary had left an entry on this page, the writing cramped and in red ink:

_what have you ruined?_

_a fog of agony as perceptions vanish._

_once we drank of paradise,_

_innocent and virginal,_

_but your thirst vanished._

_a vengeful morass of blood -_

_tears follow bitterness,_

_follow blood, love taken away._

_in a haze of vengeance,_

_i condemn you_.

Plucking a quill that she'd shoved through her ponytail earlier in the day, Ginny paused, biting the tip between her two front teeth before placing it on the paper, hesitantly responding: _I am Ginny Weasley, and if you're trying to possess me you'd better have the decency of getting me drunk first_.

As if on cue, the thin red text scrolled across the page: _I am nothingness and despair. How dare you intrude on my solitude._

Ginny rolled her eyes, as if the diary could see her facial expression, and set the quill to the paper again. _Oh, please. You know, if you are going to use me for your evil deeds, can't you at least try to sound threatening?_

_Your mundane mind cannot comprehend the abyss of my soul, my anguish at the loss of my true love and spirit_ , it wrote back at her. Ginny stared at the diary, feeling, as though at that very moment, she was unlearning anything she'd ever been taught in her entire life because of the very stupidity of the contents of this miserable little book.

_Right_ , she wrote back, the ink flying across the page and splattering on her hand, _I don't have to put up with your pretentious shit. I hope you like it warm, because the fire desperately looks like it needs kindling_.

_No! Wait! I have better poetry, I swear_ \-- scrolled the diary's text, the red ink frantic and jagged, but it was too late: with a ceremonious toss, the diary hit the fire, the pages glowing yellow before shrivelling into red glowing coils, crumbling and crackling amongst the logs of wood and paper kindling.


End file.
